


My Something to Ignore

by keep_waking_up



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dildos, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Other, Sex Toys, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 22:02:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1758089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keep_waking_up/pseuds/keep_waking_up
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On his birthday, Sam makes one very particular purchase.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Something to Ignore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Li (cockslutjared)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Li+%28cockslutjared%29).



> For Li, for her birthday.

On Sam’s nineteenth birthday, he didn’t spend time with his new college friends.  He didn’t even tell them.  Instead, he spent the week prior to it playing pool in the bars near Stanford, where he knew he could make a decent amount of money.  He saved up enough to pay for a monthly pass for Caltrain (the commuter rail for the SF peninsula and the Silicone Valley), a full wardrobe (about six pairs of jeans, two pairs of PJs, nine undershirts/t-shirts, five flannels, and one jacket), and one last special item.

He kept his head down as he walked quickly through San Francisco’s Castro District.  He kept imagining that he would turn the corner and all his new, shiny friends who only knew the New-and-Improved Sam Winchester would be there, staring at him and whispering behind their hands.  Realistically, he knew that none of them would know.  Even if he did run into one of them in the city’s preeminent gay district, they would just assume the usual.  They wouldn’t care.  They’d be wrong, of course, in a twisted kind of way.  After all, he wasn’t _really_ gay.  He didn’t know _what_ he was, but there was only one guy that he’d ever looked at in that light.

If he’d still been living on the road, saving up money for _this_ would have been considered frivolous.  But at Stanford, his education, housing, and food plan was all paid for by his scholarship.  The school even bought his books for him.  He had a job at the campus library as well, so he could buy the small necessities for himself, but he made more than enough to allow for this onel extravagance.

It _was_ his birthday, after all.

Sam reached his destination far too quickly, in his opinion.  He would have liked a little more time to come to terms with what he was going to do, even though he’d decided to make this purchase months ago.  He ducked into the store quickly, not wanting _anyone_ —even people he _didn’t_ know—to see him outside.  He wanted to be like the ideal ghost, unseen and gone as quickly as possible.

Of course, because he’d done his research and picked a _classy_ place instead of some hole-in-the-wall he’d walked by, a bell rang over his head when he entered the store.  The guy at the counter—tall and blond, with a single ring on his lower lip, the perfect California stereotype—smiled at Sam.  “Welcome!  Let me know if you need help with anything!”

Self-consciously, Sam nodded at him before ducking behind a shelf.  He winced as he came face-to-face with black leather restraints and… were those floggers?  He took a step backwards and nearly knocked a display of cock-rings off the shelf behind him.

He knew his face was bright red.  He was rarely clumsy; that had been trained out of him.  When he was, he felt fifteen again, growing too fast for his balance to keep up with, all ugly, gangly limbs and pimples.  He peeked over at the boy at the counter, who was very deliberately looking at the register in front of him; _too_ deliberately, Sam thought.  He’d obviously seen Sam stumbling around like a _moron_.  Probably thought he was some awkward, loser virgin who was looking for a pocket-pussy or something.

Or pocket- _ass_ , if they had those.  After all, this _was_ the Castro.

He could practically hear Dean laughing at him.

Angrily, Sam shoved thoughts of Dean out of his head and stalked up to the next shelf, which housed puppy-play items.  Okay, no, not what he was looking for.

He glanced upwards, looking for some sort of signage and noticed that there was _plenty_ of it, which he would have seen if he hadn’t been focusing on keeping his head down.  He was standing in the middle of the BDSM section,  nowhere near where he was supposed to be.  He scanned the signs until he found the one he was looking for.

_Dildos_.

He tried not to be too obvious about where he was going.  Luckily, two other men—clearly a couple—came in while he was oh-so-casually browsing the anal beads.  They distracted the clerk, which meant Sam could go look over the dildo selection unnoticed.

Sam had never had a dildo before.  He hadn’t realized that there would be so much _variety_.  He’d figured there’d be a few different sizes and shapes, and that would be it.  He hadn’t imagined a whole _wall_ displaying what seemed like hundreds of different models.  Some of the dildos vibrated.  Some were made of rubber, some silicone, some steel, and some were even made of glass.  Then, of course, they were made in the entire rainbow of colors.  _Plus_ , the expected differences in shape and size.  Sam was more than a little bit overwhelmed.

He didn’t notice the other customers leaving, so he was surprised when a voice suddenly spoke at his side.  “I prefer the Bigball Bat myself.  I know it’s a little big for some, but it comes in silicone and vibrates as well.  It’s not too stiff; got a little give to it, you know?  But not all floppy like some of the rubber stuff.”  The clerk grinned sheepishly over at Sam.  “My boyfriend says I’m too picky about this stuff.  But there’s nothing worse than getting a bad dildo and ending up unsatisfied, so...”  He shrugged a little, looking back at the wall.  “It depends on what you’re looking for.”

Sam knew the clerk was trying to ease his nerves by sharing personal information, but knowing what he was trying to do didn’t stop it from happening.  Sam let out a shuddery breath and tried to grin back.  “I just… didn’t expect there to be so much.  I kinda wanted to be able to just grab something and go.”

“So, what are you looking for?” The clerk asked kindly, thankfully not saying something like ‘I could tell.’  “As you can see, we have plenty of selection.  Feel free to touch the display models and stuff if you want to.”

Hesitantly, Sam reached out and picked up the model the clerk had brought up.  He turned it over in his hands indecisively.  “I like the idea of the, um, silicone and the vibrating.  But I…”  He tried not to think about _why_ it felt wrong, even though he knew in the back of his mind that he was looking for a dildo that looked as much like Dean’s cock as possible.  “This is kind of, um, straight?  I was looking for something a bit more… curved?”

“Oh yeah, sure,” the clerk agreed genially.  “If you want something a little smaller, you could get the Pizza Boy—here.”  He pointed at skin-colored, slightly curved dildo.  Sam didn’t want to admit it, but it was a bit too small for him.  The clerk seemed to read that off his face though, because he pointed up at another dildo.  “If you want something a little more… sizable, the Stud is the pick for you.”

_“You think you’re such a stud, don’t you?”_

_“Oh yeah, I’ll be a stud for you, baby.”_

Sam jerked his head slightly, shaken by how quickly the memory of Dean’s voice had overtaken him.  “The Stud, huh,” he said, reaching over to pick up the dildo.  As he’d known almost as soon as he’d heard the name, it was as close to perfect as it could be.  It was dark blue and felt right in his hands.  He nodded once and then looked over at the clerk.  “This one, I think.”

“Cool.”  The clerk was reassuringly casual about it, grabbing a packaged version of the dildo off of the shelf and bringing it over to the check-out counter.  “I’ll throw in a bottle of lube for free.  Don’t _ever_ use silicone lube with silicone toys, okay?  Anything else?”

“No thanks,” Sam said hurriedly.  “And I can pay for the lube, it’s fine.”

“Dude!”  The clerk laughed.  “Don’t ever turn down free stuff.  Just think of it like a first time customer gift or something, I don’t know.  But the dildo’s going to cost you enough already.”

It did.  It was almost eighty dollars and actually came with a warranty, which Sam thought was ridiculous.  If he _broke_ his dildo, he certainly wouldn’t be _admitting_ that.  Still, he kept quiet as the clerk rang him up and paid in cash.

“Have a good day, man,” the clerk told him, and Sam nodded gratefully at him before leaving the store.

The weight of the dildo in his nondescript bag kept bumping against his leg as he walked to the Caltrain station.  Onboard, he hid the bag behind his feet and fidgeted whenever he remembered what he was carrying.  By the time he got back to his dorm, he was nearly out of his mind with paranoia and perverse excitement.

Luckily, he had a single.  His roommate had dropped out two months into their first semester, and Sam had been left with the room.  At first, it had been strange.  He wasn’t used to sleeping in a room on his own.  He’d woken up several times in the middle of the night, panicked because he couldn’t hear someone else breathing in the room.  At one point, that would have meant something was severely wrong.  Now, it was just par for the course.

Much as he wanted to get straight to using the dildo, he wasn’t about to use it without washing it first, which meant he had to smuggle it into the bathroom under his towel as he went to shower.  Once he was in the shower stall, he ran it under the water and scrubbed it clean before he washed himself.  He stuck it in his shower caddy while he was washing himself and it seemed to almost taunt him from where it sat.  Normally, he cleaned himself quickly and efficiently, but today it felt a bit like foreplay.  As he massaged bodywash into his ass cheeks, he shuddered and kneaded the skin more than usual.  Tentatively, he dipped a finger between them, rubbing one soapy finger over his hole, just _barely_ resisting the urge to push it inside of him.

For the second time that day, he was almost clumsy as he dried himself off and hurried back into his room, dildo hidden in the folds of his towel.  He nodded at the girl a few doors down as they crossed paths before he re-entered his room.  He made sure to lock the door behind him and then let his towel drop on the floor.  He grabbed the dildo and lube and climbed eagerly into bed.  He’d barely even _fingered_ himself since coming to Stanford, but he’d been craving this.  He’d been getting fucked on a fairly regular basis since he was sixteen, and his body still wasn’t used to being without, even though it had been three-fourths of a year.

He didn’t finger himself this time either.  He spread lube over the dildo before getting on his hands and knees.  His fingers were trembling a bit as he grasped the dildo, reached around, and pressed the tip into himself. 

The stretch was wonderful.  It _hurt_ in the best kind of way, keeping Sam in the here-and-now instead  of drifting off into some fantasy.  _That_ would hurt more than help in the end.  Instead, he took his time, slowly fucking the dildo in and out of himself, going a bit deeper each time.  It seemed to take ages before it was fully inside him, the tip kissing his prostate.

Letting out a low gasp, Sam let himself fall forward, burying his face in a pillow as he pushed the dildo a bit harder, so it applied constant pressure against his prostate.  His left hand clawed at his bedding and his legs trembled.  It felt so damn _good_ , just the right kind of spark, something he could never feel if he wasn’t doing exactly _this_.

He wanted _more_.

Fumbling, he inched his fingers up the hilt of the dildo until he found the vibrate button.  He pressed it once and instantly gasped.  The dildo was shaking inside of him, and it almost felt like it was fucking him in tiny little thrusts.  He flipped over onto his back and clenched down on the dildo, thrashing his head back and forth.  He just wanted...if only it would _actually_ fuck him.  He wanted that so badly.  He wanted to be held down and fucked, wanted to _take_ it.  This _wasn’t enough_.

He sobbed lowly, clenching rhythmically around the dildo.  Why had he done this to himself?  He should have _known_ it would do this to him.  No matter how much he needed this, it would be worse in the long run because it would just make him think of—

_Dean_.

Dean smiling at him.  Dean in his leather jacket.  Dean kissing him on his sixteenth birthday, laughter and something greater than love in his eyes.  Dean fucking him for the first time in the back of the Impala.  Dean flipping him over and rimming him until he cried.  Dean over him, amulet hanging down and brushing Sam’s chest as Dean slowly fucked him, even as he begged for _harder, faster_.  Dean, with his head tilted back as Sam sucked him off sloppily, still learning, but god, Dean was so _patient_ with him.  Dean grabbing his hair and pushing him down into the pillows so Sam could _scream_ as he came—

Sam’s orgasm was nothing compared to the ones in his memories.

He lay panting with the aftershocks for one moment before he growled and pulled the dildo out of him with one harsh jerk.  It _hurt_ , but he didn’t care.  All he cared about was throwing the dildo as far away from him as he could get it.

It landed beneath his old roommate’s bed, and he turned his back on it, burying his face in the pillows once more.  There was an ache inside his chest, one that was always there, but he’d managed to ignore for the past nine months.  Now he couldn’t pretend it wasn’t there anymore.

He missed his _brother_.

Sam pulled the blankets to him as tightly as he could, but he couldn’t deceive himself into thinking there was another warm body behind him.

The next morning, he retrieved the dildo from where he’d thrown it.  He wiped it off with a damp washcloth from the bathroom, and then shoved it into the bottom drawer of his dresser, which he didn’t use. 

It became just one more thing he tried his best to ignore.


End file.
